Danielle Steel - Daddy

He jumped up from the chair then, and dashed upstairs to call them, while she wandered around the room, touching things, staring into space, and staring blankly at pictures. What if they hated her, if his daughter was a brat, and his beloved Sam a little monster. But before she could turn tail and run, the dog suddenly bounded into the room, followed by Sam, then Mel, and Oliver just behind them. It was an instant attack, and the room seemed suddenly full of noise and chatter and laughter, and then they all fell silent as they saw her.

Oliver was quick to step forward and introduce them. Mel shook her hand, clearly taking stock, and seemed to approve of what she saw. In fact, she was impressed. And Sam was staring at her with narrowed eyes, as though trying to remember something, but not sure what. And there was no denying she was pretty. She had worn a sedate navy blue skirt for them, dark blue textured stockings, and pretty navy pumps, a white turtleneck sweater, and a blazer. She wore less makeup than Mel, which wasn't much, and her hair was pulled back in a long, shining ponytail. Her hair was exactly the same color as Benjamin's, which was the first thing Mel noticed.

“It's nice to meet you both,” she smiled, “I've heard a lot about you from your father.”

“Yeah? Like what?” Sam grinned delightedly at her. She was kind of cute, and he decided he might like her. “Did he tell you about my science experiment?” He had been particularly proud of that, and Mel groaned at the thought.

“No, don't, please …” She guessed correctly what was coming.

“Would you like to see it?” He smiled broadly, and Charlotte started to nod, and Mel held out a hand to stop her.

“Take my advice, don't. He grew a worm farm. It's really disgusting.” She and Aggie had forced him to keep it in the garage, and he was dying to show his father's friend, as much to show off as to test her.

“I did that once,” she smiled at the boy, “my mother threw it out though. I had snakes, and white mice … and … a guinea pig. Have you ever had a guinea pig, Sam?” He shook his head, duly impressed with her. She was obviously a good one. “They're terrific. Mine was a longhair. It looked kind of like a cross between a dog and a rabbit.”

“Gee, that sounds great,” and then to Oliver with wide eyes, “Dad, can I have one?”

“You'd better ask Aggie first. She'll probably have to clean it.”

Agnes called them into dinner then, and they sat down in the dining room at the formal table. Charlotte primly put her starched white napkin in her lap, and felt Mel's eyes taking everything in, from her shining hair, to her perfectly manicured nails.

They had hamburgers and French fries, Sam's favorite, and a big green salad and homemade muffins, and Oliver was instantly reminded of the simple meals they'd been cooking for the past two weeks in Charlotte's kitchen. He suddenly knew how much he'd miss his time alone with her, but he had already promised himself that he would spend as much time with her as he could, even after the children got back. He had a right to, after all, and they'd have to get used to it. And then suddenly, halfway through dinner, Sam let out a yell and stared at her. His mouth fell open and his eyes grew wide, and then he shook his head … it couldn't be … it wasn't her … or was it …

“Are you … have you ever …” He didn't even know how to begin to ask the question, and Charlotte gently laughed at him. She had wondered if they would figure it out, but she had figured Mel would recognize her first, but she hadn't.

“I think I am,” she said modestly with a mischievous grin, “if you're asking what I think you are, Sam.”

“You're on TV! Wow! … That's you, isn't it? I mean …”

“Yeah, yeah … that's right.” She looked apologetically at both kids, feeling faintly embarrassed.

“Why didn't you tell us?” Sam seemed almost insulted, and Mel looked confused. She knew Charlotte looked familiar, but she still didn't know why and she was ashamed to ask now. Obviously she should have known and didn't. And she really felt stupid.

“It didn't seem all that important. Sam.” And the beauty of it was, she meant it.

“You said you had a guinea pig! Why didn't you say you had a TV show?”

They all laughed at his reasoning, and Charlotte shook her head, and grinned. “They're not exactly the same thing, you know.”

And then suddenly Mel knew, too, and her eyes grew to be enormous. “Oh my God You're Charlotte Sampson!”

“I am.” She said quietly as Aggie passed another heaping basket of the delicious muffins, and glanced at her with pride. It was as though she and Charlie were old friends, and Charlotte shot her a grateful look, and whispered, “Thanks, Aggie,” as she took another muffin from the basket.

“Why didn't you tell us?” She echoed her brother's words, and Charlotte looked at her seriously.

“Would it have made you like me any better? It shouldn't, you know. That kind of thing is nice, but it isn't really very important.”

“I know, but …” Wait till she told her friends at school that she had actually had dinner with Charlotte Sampson! Lots of kids knew famous actors here, some of them were even related to them, but she had never known any before, and as she looked Charlotte over again more carefully this time, she thought she was terrific. And so did her father. He loved the way she was handling his kids, the things she said, the way she looked, the values that made her who she was, instead of just a famous actress. “Wow, it's really exciting to meet you,” Mel said honestly, and Charlotte laughed.

It was a compliment that meant something to her, especially coming from Ollie's daughter.

“Thank you, Mel. It's exciting to meet you too. I was so nervous before I came over tonight, I must have changed my clothes ten times!” Ollie was touched, and Mel looked astounded.

“You? Nervous about meeting us That's amazing! What's it like being on TV?” After that, they fired a hundred questions at her, about who she knew, who she'd seen, who she worked with, what it was like being on-screen, learning lines, was she ever scared, did she really like it?

“Hey, guys, relax,” Oliver intervened at last, “give Charlie a chance to eat her dinner at least.” They hadn't let her come up for air since they'd figured out who she was, and suddenly into the silence Mel asked her a single question.

“How'd you meet our dad?” She was curious, no longer critical, and Charlie smiled tenderly at the question.

“Just good luck, I guess. A few weeks ago, at a network Christmas party.”

And then Oliver decided to tell them the truth, or part of it anyway. He figured they were ready for it. “Charlie was nice enough to invite me for Christmas dinner on Christmas Eve.” He didn't tell them he'd spent the night with her, however, or made love to her in their pool on Christmas Day, or fallen head over heels in love with her the moment they met, but Mel could see it, and even Sam suspected this was serious. They looked at each other kind of weird, more even than Mom and Jean-Pierre. But it was okay with him, he thought, Charlotte Sampson was terrific.

And as soon as they finished dessert, he invited her once again to go to the garage with him to view his worm farm. And much to Mel's horror, she went, and returned to announce it was much better than hers had been. And Sam said proudly he'd won the science prize for it, as his sister told him again that he was revolting.

At nine o'clock, Sam went to bed, and Mel stayed downstairs to talk to her about scripts and agents and acting. Charlotte confessed she had always wanted to do a Broadway play, and finally, with regret, she looked at her watch, and admitted she had a 4:00 A.M. studio call the next day to shoot a tough scene she still had to review when she went home. “There's a lot of hard work to it, Mel, if you're serious about acting as a career. But I have to admit, I love it.”